


Picture Perfect

by Reioka



Series: Pride Pockets [5]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Trans Character, pride fic, pride month
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:13:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24652111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reioka/pseuds/Reioka
Summary: Clint doesn't hate looking at old photos anymore.
Series: Pride Pockets [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1386916
Comments: 6
Kudos: 115





	Picture Perfect

Picture Perfect

Clint didn’t have a lot of pictures from when he was a kid. His dad was never one for taking them, and, well, once they were in the circus, it wasn’t a life really conducive for that. Besides, Barney had taken after their dad and didn’t really care about ‘sentimental shit’ like photos. He had one that he kept more as a reminder of how far he’d come, of him with Barney, Jacques, and Buck. It was to remind him that he made it _in spite_ of them, not because of them. There were a couple others, but he always winced when he saw them.

There were a lot more pictures now. Thor was fond of the old Polaroid that Jane had given him, and Steve had bashfully asked if he could do sketches of everyone. Bruce and Natasha’s phones were full of pictures they’d taken, and Tony was known to look through security footage and keep stills that he liked. Clint still didn’t take many photos. It wasn’t something he’d grown up with, and it came more as an afterthought.

So when Thor had suggested an ‘Avengers Scrapbook,’ he’d been leery at the idea of handing over his pictures, but he also didn’t have any real attachment to them. Luckily, no one looked upset or even surprised when he tossed a handful of pictures onto the table and nothing else.

“Fear not, Clint!” Thor told him happily. “I’ve been collecting magazines and newspapers, and many of them have captured you in very dynamic poses.”

“Is that your nice way of telling me that you printed off that collection of photos Buzzfeed posted of me falling into dumpsters?” Clint asked.

Thor beamed at him. “Yes.”

“Great,” Clint said, and wasn’t even that upset by it. Some of those photos had been really artistic. He hoped Buzzfeed paid the photographers well.

“Who’s this, Clint?” Bruce asked, holding one of Clint’s pictures closer to his face, as if it would help him identify the person in it. “Do you have a sister?”

Clint took a deep breath, then let it back out slowly, considering. Finally, he said, “That’s me.”

Bruce was silent for several minutes before he looked back up at him, squinting, then looked back down at the picture. He did this a few times before finally looking back up at Clint and very accusingly asking, “Just how many times has your nose been broken, Clint?!”

Clint’s shoulders relaxed. He hadn’t even realized he’d been winding tighter and tighter. “Oh, uh—”

“Clint’s nose is intact?! I wanna see!” Tony bellowed, flinging himself over both Steve and Thor’s lap to try and snatch it. “What the fuck you had freckles back then!? Bring them back!”

Clint covered his nose, offended. “I discovered sunscreen! Are you saying you want me to get face cancer?!”

“I want you to get freckles again!” Tony barked at him.

“Claire,” Steve murmured, reading the back of the picture. “That was your name?”

Clint scratched the back of his neck awkwardly as he sat down next to Natasha. “Yeah. Mom really liked the name growing up, so she gave it to me. When I was choosing a new name to replace my dead name, I wanted to keep a piece for my mom. So I chose Clint to replace Claire. I hope she would have liked it.”

“I think she would have,” Natasha said quietly, smiling a little.

Clint started to smile back at her, but Bruce butted in to say, “I notice you didn’t answer my question, Clint.”

“I lost track after the fifth time,” Clint admitted.

“After the fifth—” Bruce sputtered, appalled.

Thor wrapped an arm around Clint’s shoulders and held up his Polaroid. “Say cheese, Clint!”

“Cheese,” Clint said, smiling for the flash, then looked up at Thor in bewilderment. “What the fuck?”

“I’m sure that was very nerve-wracking, coming out to the team,” Thor explained as the photo popped out of the camera. “I thought I’d get a picture of the occasion. It’s important. _You_ are important, Clint.”

“Oh,” Clint said, swallowing thickly, as Natasha patted him on the back before she leaned forward to look through the other photos. He leaned forward to look as well, heart full.

Tony slithered over the table to him. “Wait, so is your legal name Clinton or Clint?”

“Can you be a normal human being for, like, ten seconds?” Clint asked, but Tony just made a face at him and crawled across his lap to place his head in Natasha’s. “Legally I’m still technically Claire. It gives me an identity to fall back on that people wouldn’t expect if I’m on the run—I never really had the money to change my name before SHIELD, and sometimes I just sorta… forget I can do that now.”

“Do you want me to help you with the paperwork?” Bruce asked gently. “Or do you want to keep that identity?”

Clint paused, considering. Maybe… maybe it was time to let that part of his life go. He hadn’t been Claire for a long time now. He didn’t have many good memories of being Claire anyway. He reached out to take the photo Bruce had picked up again, staring at it.

There Claire was, standing with Barney, Jacques, and Buck, small and skinny and freckled, and very clearly female. In the background, he could see a couple of the younger acrobats making faces at the camera. The girl in the background sticking out her tongue would show Clint how to safely bind his chest three days after the picture had been taken. She’d also been the first one to regularly call him his new name when he requested it, and the other acrobats had followed her lead, and had been very firm with the rest of the circus about following his wishes to be called ‘he’ and ‘him’ and ‘Clint.’

Those times weren’t all bad, he thought, and set it into the pile that were being okayed for the scrapbook. “Yeah, Bruce. I’d like that. It’s time.”


End file.
